Madness Comes In Waves
by ocmanda
Summary: Stiles has fallen so deeply into depression at the deaths of 3B. The pack wants nothing to do with him, and neither does his father. Stiles reaches out to his mothers sister but it may be too late to help Stiles.
1. Chapter 1

Stiles was broken. His soul was blackened and shattered. When he closed his eyes all he saw was Allison covered in blood screaming at him. He saw Aiden wolfed out and calling out for his brother. He saw Erica laying on the ground her hand stretched towards Boyd as she took her last breath. He saw Boyd at Derek's knees looking at Stiles, his eyes screaming for help.

These thoughts led Stiles to think about Deaton telling him he's a spark and that he could do so much good for the pack. He saw himself struggling to learn while the pack dies around him. He saw the looks Deaton gave him, when it took too long for him to learn something because his mind just wouldn't settle.

He saw Scott running in the woods trying to get away from Peter. He saw his dad, Melissa, and Mr. Argent being crush to death, because Stiles didn't want to think that Jennifer was the Darach, he just wanted Derek to have one good thing. It was because of the others that he had the strength to find the Nemeton. Deaton told him his spark should have been able to locate his father, but Stiles failed. His failure led to the sacrifices and thus fueling the Nemeton and awaking the Nogitsune. His failures! He opened the door!

He saw Derek cuffed in the back of a cop car. He saw Derek being impaled by claws. He saw Derek drowning in the pool because Stile knocked him in. He saw Derek being attacked by Lydia, because Stiles was too stupid to understand what was in punch even though his training should have alerted him. He saw Derek on his knees clutching his chest in pain, because he lost another pack member and Stiles was too weak to save them. He should have been able to heal Boyd.

It's been a week since Alison's funeral, a month since her death, and no one looked at him. No one has spoken to him since they trapped the Nogitsune. His father, who's been working so much that Stiles is sure it's to avoid him, tells him they need time. He'll give them a life of it.

He called Deaton, but the vet expressed hesitation on going forth with training. He told Stiles that his soul needs to heal. Stiles knows it's because he fears that the darkness of power is too much for Stiles. Stiles thinks that they all may think he let the Nogitsune take over his body, they may even think it was him to begin with.

"Ahh Batman don't be down, they're just mourning. They don't know how fucked up you are. If they knew, they would come." Erica looked at her blood red claws smirking at the how sharp they are.

"They need to be around to know Erica." Stiles muttered to her while getting into his car. He needed out of the house.

That was a thing as well in Stiles life now, he was seeing people. Well he was seeing important people like Erica, Allison, Boyd, and strangely Derek.

He drove to the store and spent at least two hours walking around, though he only bought a candy bar. His indecision was put fully on the two people following him telling him what to get and what not to get and putting his stuff away. He only got a candy bar.

"You shouldn't eat that Stiles it'll go right to your hips." Erica hissed at him.

"I miss chocolate." Allison sighed in the back of his jeep. "Scott used to bring me a bar every Monday, because he knew I hated Mondays." Erica snorted and looked at Stiles with disdain. They hated when Allison talked about Scott. However, Stiles was angry, Scott used to bring him a chocolate bar on Mondays, well before Allison, he did so because he was buying his mom one as well. He would bring it to her after school along with lunch.

He's driving around town. He wasn't even focusing on where he was going, because he was arguing with Erica on the merits of chocolate. He ends up at Derek's' house. He doesn't even realize it until he's stopping next to several cars. It seemed almost natural to come here, like the three of them were meant to be here.

There's laughter.

He looked over to Erica, she was gone, so was Allison.

He doesn't know why but he takes out his sharpie and quickly draws runes on his arm and car to obscure them and to make them silent. He's slowly getting out of the car when he looks at the ones around his; Scotts bike, Lydia's, Derek's, Mr. Argent, Deaton, and his fathers.

Stiles doesn't shut his car door, scared it'll make noise, and slowly walks to the left to be hidden by the trees. He's able to look into the front room window. They're all there eating pizza.

Derek. Peter. Isaac. Scott. Kira. Lydia. Ethan. Ms. McCall. Jackson. Danny. Mr. Argent. Deaton. His Dad.

Stiles chokes back a sob and falls to his knees. He allows for a moment silent tears and sobs to fall. He feels like an outside, like a bad guy taking intel on them. They look so peaceful together. They look like a pack. They look like they don't need him, though he doubts they would even want him now.

He doesn't want to get caught, but this is the first time he has seen happiness in a long time. Even if that happiness doesn't include him, it lefts his heart, and he rejoices in seeing it. The way his dad smiles and shakes his head at Peter of all people, the way Derek is talking with Chris, he thinks they're in a good spot. He doesn't want them to see him this way, he doesn't belong in their happiness bubble, and he just burst it. Gathering breath he quickly wipes his tears and goes back to his jeep.

He pulls out down the drive way and maybe because he hates himself he pulls out his cell phone and calls his dad. Erica appears right after and she's crying, not sobs but silent tears that tracked her makeup down her face.

He waits while it rings, still driving to god knows where. He knows traffic violation, but he needs to know.

"Hey son." The Sherif answers stiffly, his voice seems devoid of the happiness of what Stiles just saw and sounds tired.

"Hey dad. I was just calling to see if you were still at the Station. I'm getting some take-out, you know get out of the house. I've been going a little stir crazy and thought a drive would be good, you know wind and openness and all. And do you want some?" Stiles pulls into the Mc Donald's and parks near the drive through.

"No, I'm okay son. Perish brought some pizzas for everyone, I know it's not healthy but well I'm grown. You've been driving around, where?" Stiles can hear the strain in his voice. He can hear the tapping of his finger and he can hear that his father is scared that Stiles in near Derek's. He knows the packs listening and that their waiting there to hear the lies they think he's going to spew.

"I went to the store and now I'm here." Stiles told the truth he just left out all of the middle. Still straining he can hear his dad moving the phone from his mouth and he can practically see him looking to the Wolves for lie detection. It angers him. Scott, who subtlety is lost on, said that Stiles was telling the truth. Allison appears in the back of his car and to his horror seems to be stringing a bow.

Stiles ignored it. He could hear the way his father drew in a breath waiting for Stiles to most likely call him out of his lie. The two Stilinski's telling truthful lies since well forever.

"Dad?" He waited a few seconds like his father was most likely doing. He wanted his father to lie; it made the pain feel more real for some reason.

"Sorry son Perish needed something. I'll see you later, make sure you drive safe."

"Yeah sure. I lov-" The other line went dead. Stiles sat there staring at the wheel of his car. He allowed his sadness and anger to explode for a moment with one punch to the steering wheel. Erica and Allison disappeared when his fist made contact with the wheel.

He couldn't allow the anger to develop more than that. He leaned over to the glove box and grabbed a hand wipe. He rubbed the runes off this himself and the car.

Not even hungry Stiles leaves the parking lot and heads home. He felt nothing now. He buried his emotions down deep, took a breath and envisioned them leaving his body. He felt like he didn't deserve to be angry. That had dug his grave long ago and now he was laying in it as the dirt was slowly being pushed in.

When Stiles got home he paced. He didn't know what to think or how to act. He understood why they were kicking him out of the pack, he's caused so much pain. He had killed people in the pack. He was a hindrance to their survival. He was weak. He allowed people to die because of his mistakes. He was the weight that was bringing the pack down. He was the crack in their shield.

Stiles fell down onto his bed, he needs to leave. If he wasn't here he couldn't hurt them.

Stiles Aunt Imogen Jean, on his mother's side her only sibling, was a magic user, like his mother was. She would take Stiles in and train him.

She used to come around all the time when his mother was alive but after her death, he thinks it was too painful for her to keep coming. Deaton had been the one to tell Stiles that his mother and Aunt were sparks as well. The three of them used to take walks in the forest while they told him tales of the trees. How the trees held magic within their hearts and they were the heart beats of the forest, giving life to the creature that lived within. Every tree had a story and his Mom and Aunt used to take turns telling them to him.

He cradled his phone and brought up her number. She lived in San Francisco and it was late, but he was desperate. Plus he distinctively remembers her being a night owl. She used to come into his room at 3 in the morning to bring him on the roof and look into the stars.

"Hello." Her voice was chipper and awake, there was people talking loudly in the background. He heard her shushing them but laughing along. He loved his aunt but she was too much like his mother. She was kind hearted and loving. She always brought him candy and always listened to his babbling. She always played with him. She had long brown hair that ended near her rounded hips and she loved to wear jeweled belts that hung on them with her hippy skirts. Her eyes were a kind warm brown, and she always smiled brightly at him.

"Aunt Imogen its Genim." He whispered softly trying to make sure no one heard his name. His mother always told him names were important and to keep them to your heart whenever you can. His aunt gasped and he could hear her leaving the room she was in.

"Stiles." Her voice held a little anger, most likely at using her name. "Names-" she always ranted when they used their really names. His mother though cautioned him about giving it out, seemed to protect her name like it was nothing. Because his mother was never careful with her name and his aunt feared for her nephews lack of respect as well and always ranted when he used it.

"I know, I'm sorry, I just needed for you to know that it's me." He sighed while playing with his zipper. He heard her huff in the background, while opening the fridge.

"I need your help." He spoke quietly. He was ashamed. What if she said no?

"Sweetie, what is it? I'm here for you." The love in her voice was heart wrenching. If she knew what he had done… she would be disgusted. She was a pure light hearted woman; death was not something she dealt well with.

"I need you to train me, my spark. I've been being trained by someone here but… there was an incident and I can no longer be trained by him and I feel so out of control and I thought that since mom was and you are and I know that it's a lot to ask for but I don't know who else and I need help." He ended his ramble and gasped for breath. He waited several moments as she took several breaths as well. Him knowing was news to her, though Deaton told him that they were training him when they talked about the woods and stars.

"Of course honey. You're on vacation right now?" her voice was caring, but he knew that he was asking her a lot. To see him again would be painful, but mostly painful for him.

"Yes. Summer vacation just started. I have until the second week of August." For the first time in a long time Stiles felt a spark of happiness. Training his spark meant getting better mentally.

"Okay do you want me to come to you or do you want to come here?" Stiles could hear her writing in the background.

"I'll come to you. I need… I need to get away for a while." His chest opened up and pain seemed to fill his whole body washing away the spark of happiness.

"Okay. You can drive here Monday? I need a few days to sort something's. Nothing big, I just need to make sure I have the proper tools to help you." She reassured him, because he was like his aunt and she knew he would feel guilty for disturbing her life. He smiled at the happiness of her tone. She was happy for his call.

"Great. Okay. Thank you. I love you Auntie." Stiles couldn't help the tears that were running down his face. He let them. He let them for a moment before pushing the sadness down.

"I love you Stiles. I'll see you Monday. We're going to have a great time. I'm having a little party so I have to scurry. Good night dear." They hung up and for the first time Stiles felt the knot in his chest loosening.

Stiles father didn't make it home until well into the night and it was actual almost morning with the sun peaking over the trees, Stiles already sleep. Stiles had been packing all night, mostly his clothes. He did add school work he needs to do. As well as some items Deaton gave him; several notebooks filled from notes Stiles took on Deaton's books, Mountain Ash, some Herbs, and vials of rune inks.

Stiles made piles of things he should give back to the pack, though he wasn't really sure he should give them back, like was he still in the pack? He wasn't sure, they haven't told him. He supposes he could put it in a box and leave it on Derek's steps. He ignored the fact that he packed several of Derek's shirts into his duffle bag.

It was Friday, he had three days until he had to leave, he wasn't sure how to tell his dad, or when. He needed to call Deaton as well. He knew that Deaton wasn't going to further his teaching but he felt like that was proper thing to do. Should he tell Derek? Scott?

He had woken early that day around 9. His dad was already gone to work. There was a note of the fridge telling him that he was going to be home around 10, so after dinner time. Stiles just threw the note away and made some cereal.

He sat in the same spot staring at the left over milk in his bowl for hours.

A car horn blared outside at the neighbor's house and it startled Stiles out of his state. His hand came up to his face and came away with wetness, he was crying. Again. Out of the corner of his eye he saw Erica leaning against the counter.

It was Sunday night and Stiles still hasn't seen his father let alone spoken to him more than a few sentences. Stiles didn't know how to tell his dad that he was leaving but he kind of needed his dad here to tell him. It was 8 at night and his dads note said he was going to be doing a night shift. Again. He was pulling a double again. Stiles doubted that.

Sighing Stiles went up to his room and grabbed his two duffle bags and the box for the pack. He could start the car ride to his Aunts early and telling everyone at the same time. He knew were his dad was.

Stile drew the runes on his jeep and his arm before he left the house. Erica and Allison joined him in the car, none of them spoke. Though when they reached the drive way to Derek's renovated house, Erica placed her hand onto of his and smiled before her and Allison disappeared.

When he reached Derek's everyone's car was out front. He glared at his dad's car. Sighing Stiles grabbed the box and got out of his car. He walked around some cars so that he could see through the house window they were all piled on the couch watching TV.

Stiles set the box down on the front porch away from the sight line of the door, he didn't want to talk about the box. He knocked gently knowing they would hear. He wrung his hands and wiped them a few times on his pants before stuffing them into his pockets. Stiles could hear the TV shut off and the people on the cough shifting.

Derek opened the door and though he was frowning, Stiles could see guilt deep in his eyes. Derek looked good though. He was as buff as ever and there were less worry lines marring his face. He looked well rested. He was also shoeless, which stiles thought was weird. He also wasn't wearing black like he always did. He was wearing a deep red henley with light ripped jeans that wear hanging on his hips, there was pain splatter all over them.

He wondered what Derek saw and smelled on him. Stiles hadn't slept in three days and there were deep purple bruises under his eyes. His shoulders were so slumped that they ached but it took too much energy to raise them. His mouth as well was turned downward. He hasn't showered in several days and the clothes he's wearing are that many days old as well. His hair was going in all different directions. He wasn't doing well, he was so deep into his depression that he was actually seeing people and speaking to him. Like Derek, he spoke to Derek when he lays in bed trying to sleep.

"Stiles?" he sounded confused at seeing Stiles. His body was doing everything he could to block the door but to also seem open. However, he was just trying to hide the fact that everyone was in the house. Stiles looked over Derek's shoulder ignoring him.

"Dad I need to speak with you, and since you haven't been home during awake hours and since I knew you weren't at the station and probably haven't been staying late at the station at all, or having diner there. Anyways, I came here, because I knew you've been coming here." Stiles couldn't help the anger and accusation in his voice. His dad stood behind Derek but made no move to step outside and Derek made no move to allow Stiles in.

"What do you need son." The fact that he wasn't going to even deny his whereabouts hurt Stiles. He wanted to be wrong. He wanted to believe that when his father looked at him he didn't see a murder. He had hoped that his dad would see his broken son that just needed to be held.

He opened his mouth several times and his eyes moved between his dad and Derek, while doing so, he caught more people coming to the door.

"I need to speak with you. I wanted to do so in private." Stiles took a step back trying to draw his father out of the house. Derek tracked his movement. The Sherif shook his head and pinched the bridge of his nose.

"Son, we're in the middle of something and they'll hear us whether we're alone on the porch or not. If you want to talk I'll be home tomorrow night for dinner." His voice was strained like Stiles was being unreasonable and testing his control. Like wanting to speak to his father was just demanding a little too much.

Stiles couldn't stop the way he physical flinched back. He ran his hands through his hair and gripped for a moment, making the dirty locks even more disarrayed. He then brought his hands forwards a little and looked at them counting, he had to be dreaming, he wasn't. Stiles let out a breath.

"I won't be there." His dad glared and rolled his eyes shoving Derek's arm out of the way.

"Excuse me?" he put his hands on his hips. Derek crossed his arms over his chest and growled. Stiles quickly took in his dad clothes they were old paint covered clothes as well.

"I won't be there. I talked to Aunt Jean like a half a week ago and we talked about me going to visit her." Stiles looked behind his dad and focused on the door jam, it looked freshly painted. "She asked me to drive down on Monday, giving me time to see if it was alright with you, but you haven't been home so…" Stiles threw his hands up and glared at house. they were all painting together, the red of the door matched there red on his dads pants.

"You're not going to your Aunt Im-" his voice raised drastically, he even pointed his finger.

"Don't." he said harshly. Focusing back on his dad just in time to see him roll his eyes, Stiles glared. His dad never did care for his aunts quirks. In fact, Stiles dad didn't like his Aunt much, though Stiles thinks it's because Stiles almost went to live with his Aunt after his moms death. It was Melissa's suggestion after she found Stiles dad drunk at one in the afternoon, instead they compromised on Stiles staying a few days at hers.

"Stiles." He said harshly.

"I'm going. I need to get out of that house and I need someone." He wasn't proud of it but his voice cracked on someone. He rubbed his hand down his face.

"I understand that everyone needs time away from me and that you all will most likely hate me forever, but I need someone. I needed someone who can help me through this, but you seem to hate me as much as the pack. So I called Auntie." Stiles started walking away from his dad and friends. His dad was stunned into silence at thinking his son could ever think that he hated him.

When he was down the steps and a few more he turned around, everyone was on the porch with an unreadable expression and they were all covered in paint. Stiles couldn't help but be extremely angry at that dam paint.

"I'm sorry." He wanted to scream. It was his fault yes, everything bad that has happened, but he was hurting to. It was the blood on his hands and them leaving him to soak in it. Stiles left to turn when Scott spoke.

"Stiles, please!" He reached for Stiles but Derek's growl stopped him. Scott glared back at Derek both flashing their Alpha eyes.

"We don't-We don't blame you Stiles, but it's too hard seeing you. When I look at you all I can see is Allison dying." Scott looked down at his shoes kicking the dirt. He looked like a wounded puppy.

"I can't do it. We can't do it. It just hurts so much." Scott looked back at his pack frowning at them he turned to look at Stiles.

"Stiles." Scott wouldn't look him in the eyes and Stiles knew the blow was coming. "We can't have you in the pack anymore. You're too unstable and we can no longer afford such a weakness. We can't trust you." Scott's voice was firm and strong, he finally met Stiles eyes and something he saw there caused him to flinch. Derek and his dad both came running to Scott's side. Their eyes widened in what they saw, Stiles eyes turned to molten gold.

"You don't trust me!" he screamed at them, thunder cracked through the sky. "I have saved all of your lives more than I care to count. I have been there for all of you without asking for anything in return. None of you have ever been there for me unless you needed something in return. Almost all of you have tried to kill me or have left me to clean up the mess, Scott!" Stiles skin was vibrating and the wind seemed to be picking up drastically. "The only person I could have possible trust was my father and well." Stiles threw his hands in the air. His father frowned at his son, he knew he was missing information but he doubted it was that much. He assumed his son was being overdramatic again. They just needed time to build trust again.

"Now listen here son, this is not the time for such talks. These people are grieving." Something snapped in Stiles, he felt this pressure building in his heart. There was so much anger and sadness, and it kept building and building. Everything seemed to stop the thunder and wind no more. It was Peter who ran down the stairs yelling, he out of everyone knew the scent of magic. He could tell there was about to be something bigger.

"Get back!" It gave Derek enough time to shield his dad before Stiles grabbed his hair pulling and screamed.

It was high pitched and released waves for power. Some of the waves were hot but every wave got colder and colder, they rippled through the air. The trees around the house fell crashing to the ground. The door crashed off its hinges and the windows shattered outwards despite the waves going towards them. The trees seemed to shred mixing with the glass as it flew towards Stile, slicing at his skin, but forming a wall ready to be used behind him. Everyone fell to the ground clutching their ears.

Stiles fell to his knees sobbing clutching his heart. The wall of debris crashed to the ground but seemed to make no noise. Everyone stayed down accept for Derek who stood ready to attack. Well several moments passed everyone slowly rose, watching Stiles. Gasping for breath he forced down the sadness and locked it tight. He wiped the tears and snot off his face, and rose.

He gave one last look at all their scared and bewildered faces before he turned his feet crunching on the debris. He got quickly into his car. He was just turning it on when he notice a person in his passenger seat.

Erica.

"I'm here for you Batman." She smiled softly and Stiles drove away, the pack just watching him, as he clutched Erica's hand. He felt so empty. He felt so alone.


	2. Chapter 2

Derek watched Stiles drive away as he forced his wolf instincts down, who just wanted to follow. They needed to drive him away. It wasn't safe in Beacon Hills for Stiles. Kate Argent was apparently still alive and she blamed Stiles for the death of Alison. It was better to kill her while he was away.

He stood there watching for a moment more before he would need to act like the Alpha he was not. That was Scott but come on. Derek was tired.

He had spent the last two days awake guarding Stiles without actually interacting with the boy. They had all agreed that Stiles needed to be kept out of the Kate situation. Though everyone knew Kate wouldn't stay out of the Stiles situation.

They had spent the last month looking for Kate, and Derek was pretty sure she was no longer even in town and was just messing with them. However, the death threats she sent were enough to have them on guard.

Derek wasn't heartbroken over Alison's death. She did redeem herself at the end of her life, but she was the one that caught and tortured his betas. If it wasn't for her they may have gotten out before the Alpha pack came. He also knew the truth towards Stiles cuts and bruises from that night. It was her that actually told him. She had noticed how quiet Stile was in her company and had told Derek, scared that he was like that with everyone.

He was.

Scott didn't notice.

Scott. He may be a true Alpha but he needed to grow up. He relies too much on Stiles being Stiles. He doesn't notice when that Stiles is broken. To be fair it was Scott who noticed Stiles falling apart again, but this was the result.

They didn't want Stiles to leave, well he didn't. Though he knew that Beacon Hills was not somewhere Stiles could get better. He knew the statistics for people who commit suicide after a Nogitsune possession, about 90%. He also knew the 10% who didn't, left the town it happened in. It's too much of a reminder to have to see the life of the people around you.

He was also a werewolf and could hear the truth in Scott's words when he told Stiles he couldn't trust him. Derek couldn't understand that, not trusting Stiles. Stiles was the only one who you should be trusted in his opinion. Well unless he is against you, because then he'll want you dead…

They needed to find Kate.

Derek turned back to everyone and they too were watching were Stiles was with shocked looks on their faces.

"Sheriff?" John turned to look at Derek with a sad look clouding his face. In Derek's opinion the Sheriff was not handling the Stiles situation well, though Derek determined that he just didn't know how to handle the situation and thus didn't. In fact, Derek was pretty sure that the Sheriff hasn't been at the Stilinski home in well over a week.

"His aunt? Details?" Derek barked out. His wolf was very angry at everyone, and more so himself. John opened his mouth but it was Deaton who spoke.

"Stiles Aunt Jean is a spark, like Stiles, so was his mother." Everyone gawked at the vet, Stiles never said anything. Deaton never said anything. The Sheriff never said anything.

"It's best that Stiles goes to her. I should have called her when this all happened, but there is personal matters involved." He was terribly vague that Derek just growled and like always he just raised his brows and sighed. Deaton's vagueness was going to get old very quickly.

"Jean specializes in possession and how to battle the effects." Deaton looked calm but Derek could see a twitch to the corner of his mouth and it like he wanted to frown.

Derek sighed, his wolf growling loudly in his head.

They needed to find Kate.

"Right. Okay. Kate." Everyone went back on track. Derek had his claws digging into his thigh the whole night trying to stop himself from going after Stiles.

Stiles arrived early morning at his Aunts and debated if he should wait until later in the day to announce his arrival, which was the time his aunt was suspecting him. Alison and Erica left him about halfway here and haven't reappeared.

Stiles was tired and really just wanted coffee. Sighing he parked and grabbed his bags. He should just get on with it, he didn't need to fear his aunt. He honestly didn't know if he could feel fear right now, he was numb.

Stiles climb the stairs of the weirdly multicolored blue and yellow house, it looked like a robin egg.

Stiles knocked gently on the speckled door. He could hear clanging in the background and swearing. He couldn't help but chuckle as his aunt let out another string of swears.

"Stiles Yo-" her voice stuttered to a stop as her eyes widened and her pink elephant cup fell to the floor. It hurt to see her, she looked so much like his mother.

Her brown hair was cropped to her shoulders and her warm brown eyes were no wide with sorrow and filling up with tears. She wore a beaded robe that had funny witchy hats on them.

The tea started to seep into her socks that had little white daisy's on them.

"Stiles dear god what happened." She choked out as her hand shakily reached out for his heart. He wanted to turn and run, but he wondered what she saw. Her hand laid on his heart as a sob broke through her lips.

"My dear boy." Her fingers curled into his shirt.

"Your soul." She whispered before pulling him into her house and into her arms.

They stayed like that for several minutes and Stiles felt the darkness shifting in his heart. She was using her powers to left the darkness, though most likely building mental walls around it.

He knew she was a spark like him and that she dealt with possessions. However, 8 out of 10 times he knew she would end up killing the possessed victim and trapping the spirit and their body together. Helping someone out of a possession was beyond rare, it really wasn't worth the fight. Stiles wished she was there during his.

She wanted to know what happened, but that was such a long story.

"Coffee? I've been up for a few days." his voice was rough and he could really hear the misuse. She squeaked and grabbed his hand.

"Come, Come. I just got this imported coffee from France, I'm sure it tastes bad." She pulled him along.

Her house was very hippy with scarves and color splashed everywhere. Plants hung from the ceilings near the windows and took up small tables that seemed to be all over the room. Paintings hung all over the room of beautifully crafted supernatural creatures. Some of the most beastly creatures look so beautiful and open that Stiles found himself looking differently at some of the scary ones.

He tripped over his feet when he saw a naked werewolf, it was Derek. He didn't look majorly younger so Stiles knew it was more recent. He looked peaceful with laughter lighting up his face. His beta face. His red eyed beta face.

He drank several types of coffee and then told him his past years. They sat there for several moments in silence.

"We need to do your Tattoos." She blurted out.

"Deaton wasn't teaching you right. Your spark is too strong to do book training then practical. You need to be stabilized. The tattoos should help lessen the darkness in your soul and the pull of the Nemton." She stood from the table and started pulling food out of her fridge.

"Tattoos normally are given at the end of your training and then they build up as you get older and your spark develops more. However, you never are text book are you Stiles." She spent the next moments muttering about how stupid Deaton was.

Stiles knew from his mother that his Aunt was involved with someone in Beacon hills; he never thought it was Deaton, but it makes senses.

The idea of Tattoos scared the shit out of him. He hated pain. He hated needles even more. He would rather burn the tattoo on like Scot did than get it stabbed into his skin. Maybe it would be burned on…

She made them breakfast.

"We'll do the tattoos today, I'll make some calls. You'll pick them out after breakfast and go through the process." She shoved eggs into her mouth.

"I have some books for you on runes and spells that are basic level, and we'll go from there and see how fast you can learn it. Also, you'll start on your own bestiary."

He felt panic rising in his throat as the feeling of being overwhelmed took over. He quickly pushed it down and ate more eggs.

The tattoos turned out to be runes, pictures, and interwoven lines that made it all, the whole body, a moving and interlocked piece.

"The tattoos will be painted on." Stiles sighed in relief, which was short lived. "The ink will be a special blend to you. The ink is toxic and the tattoo will be painful." She was rather blunt, but Stiles preferred it. She smiled apologetically and pulled out several binders. Stiles started thinking that maybe this was a horrible idea.

He had to look through the binders and the pictures that choose him, very harry potter. She told him that there would be many chosen and to just tap anything he felt drawn too.

After an hour of just tapping pictures and his aunt writing down his choices, he was done. He has picked what seems like a 100 pictures, though Stiles knows it's not that much… right? He picked a tribal wolf that had splashes of red along the face. He also picked a fox that was a mud red with splashes of black. Another image he had was a stump of a tree but with roots that had grown like the Nemeton. He had runes for strength, speed, agility, clarity, and peace. He had water, fire, earth, and wind (which were all represented in runes). There was some though that were dots, he had to assume that it was made with different inks to be effective.

He finished just in time for his aunt getting a knock on the door.

A heavily tattooed man walked in carrying two black cases. He was dressed in loose light colored ripped jeans that hung low on his hip bones. He forgo a shirt and wore a black leather vest. He also had a weird silver and glass time hour necklace. His blond hair was loosely pulled back into a ponytail.

"Stiles this is Jack, he's a friends of mine. Jack also specializes in magical tattoos for supernatural. Jack this is my nephew Stiles, an advanced spark." They shook each other's hand.

Jack slowly appraised Stiles with hungry eyes, and then turned his attention to the list Jean made. He smiled and raised his eyebrows at Jean. She fought back a smile, an advanced spark indeed.

Stiles couldn't explain the thoughts traveling through the two of them but for a moment he wanted to hide. Jack was not just a tattoo artist, he was something…darker.

"You run with wolves." He stated. He walked to stand behind Stiles looking at the canvas he had to work with. "You were possessed by a Nogitsune." He whispered and walked back to the list Jean made. He flipped the page and his eyes widened. "The ability to control the five elements, and access to a Nemeton." He crunched up his eyes like he didn't believe what he was seeing. "Sacrificed." He whispered.

Stiles saw his eyes flash a dark blue before they settled back to a lighter one. Stiles knew this man was dangerous, and if they ever met outside of this house… Stiles would have been dinner.

He stepped back from the page and cleared his throat.

"Well, let me set up and then we'll go through placement and structure." And there it went on. Stiles getting stripped, and tattooed on his thigh, upper arms, and back.

They placed the Nemeton on his left hip the roots shooting downwards and upwards. The roots would intertwine and separate to make an oval, the rune, dot work, or picture would be in between. The earth dots and runes went on his left leg. The Wind dots and runes down his right. The fire runes and dots down his left, and the water down his left. The wolf was placed on the left side near the middle of his chest. The fox on his back curling over right his shoulder. The runes that didn't and couldn't connect with the elements were placed down his sides.

Jack pulled out several bottles, all labeled with Latin or Greek words. The ones that he could read were; the breath of a giant, the tears of a mermaid, the fire of a dragon, and grave dirt.

He motions for Stiles to stand in front of him. Jack took a large breath and closed his eye, and started to map out were the tattoos would go with a red pen. It took only a few minutes.

"I need your blood." He twirled a black jeweled blade in his hand. Stiles sliced the palm of his hand and hissed as he allowed the blood to fill a bowl.

"Do you have any blood or anything from a wolf you run with?" Stiles did have items he kept of the wolves. He didn't want to use them, though there was one he felt okay with using. Sighing Stiles walked to his bag and pulled out a small vial of blood. He had taken one from all the pack when he started training. Blood was easier to scry with.

"Here." He handed it over and they all ignored that he had a vial of blood in his bag.

He could tell his Aunt wanted to know who's blood that was.

"It's Derek's." She looked at him with wide eyes and they flickered to the naked portrait. He nodded smiling at his aunt.

"He's a fine man, but very lost." She frowned still staring at the painting.

After mixing some ingredients into multiple bowels, Jack turned to Stiles with a thin paint brush in hand.

"Lay down on your back, on the table." He gave no warning but blinding pain priced into Stiles Soul. His breath caught and stuttered out. He wanted to run away from Jack on the sole fact that the man's eyes turned pitch black as he dragged the paint brush. Though, when the light caught them, his eyes appeared to be a deep indigo.

It felt as though a blade was being dragged along his skin. Jack moved his hand freely and smoothly though Stiles could see his lips moving as he softly muttered ancient old spells. He would move Stiles limbs freely, knowing that Stiles was far too gone in the pain to do so himself.

It took several hours but finally Jack sat back and whipped the sweat off of his brow. His eyes faded back to the blue.

"This has truly been my finest work." He whispered as Jean handed him a glass of water. She helped Stiles off of the table while handing him some underwear. He knew he should feel embarrassed about being naked in front of a stranger and his aunt, but he wasn't. Unknown to his father, his mother used to tell him the importance of being naked under the full moon. She told him never to be ashamed of his body, because every one's body is beautiful.

She settled Stiles onto a car and gave him a glass of water. He didn't or couldn't talk, because it might break the peace that had settled in the air.

He was content though to sit and take inventory of his tattoos.

The water symbols ranged from light to dark blue wrapped in brown roots with little blue leafs. The earth ones ranged from light to dark muddy browns wrapped in brown roots with little green leafs. The fire symbols ranged in reds and oranges wrapped in brown roots with little light bulbs. The air symbols were all light blues and white with little gold bulbs on the roots. The wolf sat proudly howling upwards, red splashed on its eyes. The roots seemed to embrace the wolf, wanting to protect it. The fox on the other hand, it was red and its eyes black. The roots seemed to encage it. The separate symbols down his sides where made up of the roots of the tree, there were five on each side.

Derek woke screaming in pain. He clutched his chest and stared as a wolf appeared on his chest. It pranced around his torso, and then it settled above his heart and howled. He knew it somehow had to do with Stiles. He could feel a tug and shudder along the pack link to him.


End file.
